To the Mom with the stroller crossing Sixth Avenue in New York during yesterday’s morning rush hour:

What I saw in the crosswalk was quite a production. You had one kid holding your hand and the other staging an elaborate attempt to escape his stroller, while the stoplight counted down to green: 9, 8, 7…

You held the older child’s hand tightly with one hand and pushed the stroller with the other, even popping a wheelie in an attempt to keep Houdini in his seat. You encouraged him to stay seated using your best stern, but not angry, mom voice, even though a solid, “Stay in your stroller now!” was completely warranted at that moment. So was evoking the name of Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and ice cream shaped like SpongeBob SquarePants. But you didn’t. Not this time.

Meanwhile, people without children streamed by, looking at their cell phones and sipping from their venti Starbucks cups. They gave your busy production a wide berth as they dashed off to work in their fancy clothes, their white iPod earbuds peeking out from under their jaunty scarves.

You cannot wear earbuds, because you must stay constantly alert as you steer your kids across the street. You cannot carry a phone or a latte, as both of your hands are otherwise occupied. You cannot wait to get to the sidewalk as the stoplight counts down to green: 6, 5, 4…

You pop a wheelie again to land the stroller onto the sidewalk, because the ramped area that’s more conducive to wheels is filled with commuters and a man pushing a falafel cart. There’s no room for you and your brood, not with the 3, 2, 1…

You made it! You made it with seconds to spare before the wall of cars, cabs, and delivery trucks took off down Sixth Avenue once again. And I say to you, kudos. Kudos to the mom with the stroller on Sixth Avenue during the morning rush hour yesterday. Kudos for yet another minor victory in the name of motherhood.

Before I headed off to my meeting, I watched you navigate your family down the sidewalk, no doubt to do it all over again on Seventh Avenue.